Oh, yes she did...

Poor Dylan. He finds himself in a family full of sassy chicks. Well, there's his mom, first and foremost. Then take Grandma Ethelyn, who is Dylan's great-grandmother. This summer there was a debate as to whether Grandma Ethelyn actually made a cherry/apple pie the very first Thanksgiving that Cristiano's parents came with us to the U.S. and put a sign on it that said "What the hell is it?" See, grandma usually makes several pies at Thanksgiving in addition to making just about everything else but that year she was too tired or lazy to make various pies, so she experimented with combinations. Anyway, this summer I was telling the story to various family members about how Grandma Ethelyn made the What-The-Hell-Is-It pie and nobody believed me. Well, I just found the photo to attest to it! Plus, grandma wore her "My Name Is" name tag (giving herself the title of "grandmother") to Thanksgiving for the benefit of Cristiano's parents and roared up to the event in a sports car with her friend Larry, whom she brought along because "He knows some Mexican." Larry proceeded to speak to Cristiano's parents in broken "Mexican" while talking about his bypass surgery and showing a wallet full of photos various Latin lovelies he's met over the years. Just your usual Thanksgiving. That's what the hell it was. Who knows what Dylan will make of it all when he's old enough to understand the craziness he was born into?

Ecce Homo

Dylan is ever more the little man. He's more stable standing, cruising and walking around, though he won't walk unless you give him at least one hand to hold on to. He's still reticent. That's OK. We are not pushing him.

This week, he started playing independently a bit (yeah!), flipping through his board books alone on the floor or playing with his toys quietly without making a huge mess or trying to get into things he shouldn't be getting in to. I'm talking five or ten minutes but at least it is a start!

He is exponentially cuter than ever and full of personality. He laughs at all the right times when reading his books or when watching cartoons. Unfortunately, he's really started to suffer from separation anxiety. They say this actually a sign of maturity and not a sign of regression. But it means he wakes up in the night and absolutely does not want to be alone. We've had some rough nights of sleep (or I should say groggy wakefulness) over the last week or so. Otherwise it is all good. We are just sad we can't be in the U.S. for Dylan's first Thanksgiving.

We will be celebrating with friends on Saturday. Everyone is coming over and Cristiano will be grilling a 12-pound turkey on his all-American BBQ grill. He's been strategizing and reading recipes all week and asking me questions, such as "So I stretch the skin over where the neck was and hold it in place with a skewer?" I want no part of that. I told him to get the butcher (who is a friend of ours) to prepare the turkey for him as I don't want to see any turkey heads, gizzards or gullets in my kitchen sink. Cristiano also didn't realize that you have to have a whole carving strategy and that our lame vegetable knives may not get the job done. Like I said, I'm staying out of it. I'm on side dish duty! Happy Thanksgiving everybody.

If on a snowy morning...

If on the first snowy morning of the season, you've never awoken to a sleep-suited 10-month-one-week-and-six-day-old creature in your bed dancing, swaying, clapping and "da da da"-ing, then I highly recommend it. If that creature then gives you a snaggly baby-toothed grin, opens his arms wide and calls out "ma ma," then that's perfection. And if your husband made bagels the night before, then that's extra incentive to get up.

See what I mean...

watchmecrawl
Originally uploaded by michellanea

...about Dylan never sitting still? This is just the crawling portion of his madness. The other day I was about to take a picture of him scaling the bookshelf (which we just recently screwed into the wall just for situations like this) but then I realized that I needed to stay behind him so he wouldn't fall and crack his head open. Running to get the camera was not an option. Many things he does lately are picture-worthy but I am unable to take the picture as I have to "spot" for most everything he does. I thought walking was a much quicker phase. Like he'd crawl for a week, pull up for a week, stand for a week and then walk the week later. He is getting craftier and craftier and can now get things that I think are way out of reach. Like my steaming cup of tea sitting "way up" on the kitchen table, which he almost pulled down on to his head yesterday morning.

Just try rassling this baby Bobcat

I have trying to get a good picture of Dylan in his Ohio University sweatshirt bought this summer when we were in Athens but the kid never sits still. This will have to do.

Getting around

Lest anybody thinks I will be giving Dylan homemade toys for Christmas, I want to assure everyone that he will be getting real toys and store-bought gifts. We did have a fun play session with the bottles last night though. And I have plans to make another one with colored buttons.

Here we are with his walk-and-ride toy. The wheels are fast so I have to stand behind him and hold on to it so it doesn't get away from him. I now understand the concept of the walker (where he could stand confined and safe and I wouldn't need to hang on) and since we don't have any steps, maybe that would have been a better investment. I hope that once he's walking faster on his own, he'll be able to push this along with no problems.


So here's an issue. Ten months have passed since Dylan was born. I am back in my pre-pregnancy weight range but I still can't fit into my favorite jeans. Well, I can but it's a tight and uncomfortable fit. Do I continue wearing my pre-pregnancy fat jeans or do I break down and go out and buy larger sized clothes? I think I should suck it up (and in) and overdose on abdominal exercises in the gym and just diet the last few pounds off. No fun.

Dylan says his first words...

...other than "ma ma" and they are in Italian. He now says "tee-yow" (ciao) and "gra-tee-yay" (grazie). It's crazy. It just happened overnight. I have a feeling the whole "ciao" and "grazie" phase will only last a little while and then he will stop saying both words for a period. He seems to learn something, perfect it and then move on, getting annoyed if you ask him to perform on demand like a trick pony. This is what he did when he learned how to kiss and when he learned to say "ma ma." Now he kisses and says "ma ma" when he feels like it. It has to be on his terms.

Below are some pictures of Dylan "enjoying" the homemade toys I made. Actually, he's acting cool for the camera but he really does like the one with popcorn. At the neonatal massage class I took and then at playgroup, they've encouraged us not to be too consumeristic and to use everyday objects - from wooden spoons to wadded up newspaper - at home instead of buying toys. I'm all about reusing and recycling. I can hang with that. Cristiano says my toys are sad and look like things kids had to play with during World War II. He prefers things like this. Sometimes I wonder which one of us is American.

Can I just have my lunch now?

Old water bottles filled with popcorn and colored straws. Crafty, no?

Ten-month doctor's visit

This was not one of my favorite doctor's visits. After checking Dylan, the doctor began talking about an "impurity" and I thought she was referring to his skin as he still has eczema outbreaks on occasion. No, she said. "He has a heart murmur."

"No, he doesn't," I responded quickly. "They told us that was a newborn thing and by one year, he would have outgrown it." The day after Dylan was born, he was rushed to the neonatal cardiologist because the nurses thought they heard something unusual with his heart. Cristiano went with him and (fortunately) I don't remember this at all because I was trapped in bed in a post C-section stupor. The day after the surgery was when I was in the most pain. Anyway, I remember them saying that it was nothing, that most newborns have murmurs and that it was something five years ago they never would have even heard or known about because they didn't have the technology. Now the pediatrician is saying he has some kind of "systolic impurity" and we have to go do some specialist visits.

Then there's the problem of his phimosis, which has not improved. If it doesn't get better by one year, he may need to be circumsized. Regardless, we also need to make an appointment to see a surgeon to get his or her opinion.

Growth-wise he is beginning to slow down, which is normal as his activity level has increased. He weighs 22.2 pounds, which puts him in the 50th to 75th percentile, and is 29 inches long, which puts him in the 50th percentile.

I know he's fine but I'm a little rattled by the visit as normally everything is very routine and we are in and out quickly. I don't like the idea of this heart murmur and his having to be circumsized.

No, Dylan, you can't go to Amsterdam

How will I ever be able to tell Dylan he can't go to Amsterdam at age 17 with the boys if he finds this picture of his father on Facebook? I was just surfing around Facebook minding my own business when I unexpectedly found this picture of my husband (Dylan's father - the one pictured above in the middle with the Doors t-shirt, long hair and sunglasses). Cristiano and his friends were at the beach one August and decided it was too boring so they hopped in the car and drove 15 hours to Amsterdam. I think this is going to be one of those "do as we say not as we did" situations...

Happy Birthday, papi!

Hard to believe that this time last year we were just getting Dylan's room ready and that he didn't even weigh four pounds (he now weighs more than 22!). How time has flown by!

10 Months Old

No pictures of poor Mr. Dylan today as he's still sick and sniffly. As is our tradition, this morning we read in our Italian baby book and our English baby book what Dylan is "supposed to be doing" this month. Interestingly, the Italian book says that the phrase "da da" means "dammi," or "give me." Dylan says "da da" a lot but still does not say "papà." Though sometimes it seem as he refers to Cristiano as "da da" even though we rarely call him "daddy" so we are a bit confused. I guess time will tell. He already does everything the books list as ten-month skills and has many of the month 11 and month 12 skills mastered as well. I'm his mother - of course, I would have to point that out! Speaking of being "la mamma," I've always found Italian men's attachment to their mothers a little odd, but now that I'm mother to a (half Italian) boy, it seems, well, kind of sweet, right? Check out the video where the woman who co-wrote He's Just Not That Into You went around the world to find out what dating was like in other countries! In Italy, men seem to be more attached to their mothers than anything else. So hear that future potential girlfriends of Il Dylan!

An emotional creature

He's a little person with thoughts, feelings and his own little ideas and strategies (like getting as many blocks as he can up on the couch. Why? We don't know!). A couple of weeks ago after another frustrating phone call with customs officials about my birthday/Christmas box, I broke down and started crying. After so many birthdays and Christmases spent here, a girl can only take so much. And every year I have major problems getting the all-important box, which is my symbolic link to being home for the holidays. Anyway, Dylan saw me crying and immediately got upset. I calmed myself down and tried to calm him down but he stayed upset for a while and even refused to eat his dinner. That really freaked me out and I vowed not to let him see me upset again.

Then lately, I have the very bad habit of putting my face in the path of Dylan's head just in time for him to snap back with all of his strength and bust me in the teeth or nose. I would say that Dylan has the bad habit of smashing me in the face with his head but, really, it's my fault because I should be the one to know better. I'm convinced I will break my nose or lose a couple of teeth before this phase is over. It happened last week and I immediately cupped my hands over my nose Marsha Brady "oh-my-nose" style and Dylan got the most stricken look on his face. He tried to pull my hands off my nose as if to say "I'm sorry, mommy. Please don't be hurt!" and then reached up and gave me a huge hug. The same thing happened this morning when, once again, my teeth got in the path of his head. He was so sorry about it and reached up to hug me, even patting my back "there, there" style.

I guess this probably doesn't sound all that interesting but since I'm his mom and I see him evolve day by day, the fact that I am watching him turn into this thinking, feeling creature right before my very eyes is pretty amazing.

Developments

I haven't taken a lot of pictures this week as it has been pretty hectic around here. Cristiano was sick - actually sick enough to take a day off of work. I think that's the first sick day I've ever seen him take! So I was tending to him. Now Dylan is sick so he's been staying at home. He's napping now and I've just had enough time to hang out the laundry. After ten straight days of rain, we've got a laundry backlog. The usual.

But here are some new developments on the Dylan front:

1) Dylan has become super clap happy. He's just a clapping fool. He claps for no apparent reason most of the time and doesn't like when you clap along or try to jump in by singing "pat-a-cake" or "Batti, batti le manine" in Italian. He likes to hear Barack Obama speak and when he sees him on TV, he claps. Really!

2) Despite being sick, he pretty much never sits still and he has found ways to scale and pull up on pretty much everything in the house. He must be watched at all times because he's gotten quick too. Turn your head for a second, and he's trying to climb into the bathtub...

3) Starting next week, I'm going to introduce egg yolk and tomato into his diet. He eats pretty much everything now except for citrus, strawberries and cow's milk (though he does eat yogurt and some cheeses). I'm wondering when I can stop giving him cereal. I'm getting kind of bored with the clumpy cereal thing. He already eats baby pastas and rices, which are fortified with calcium and other vitamins, so I'm thinking that when I finish my last box of rice cereal, I'm not going to buy anymore. By one year, I'd like to have him eating more or less like us. We are taking a family cruise over New Year's to Spain, Portugal and through the Strait of Gibralter. As Dylan will be almost one, I'd hope that I won't have to drag a bunch of baby foods with us and he can eat normal buffet cruise food.

4) Teething still continues to torment us. Mainly him, poor guy. He's got two new teeth coming in, which will bring him to a total of six teeth. It may be seven but he's got a phantom tooth that seems to poke out some days and withdraw on others.

There are other larger developments percolating for La Famiglia Cugini (no, we are NOT pregnant) but we aren't ready to divulge anything yet. Let's just say that we hope that "change" really does come to the U.S. now and that we can take part in it. More details in due time.

Clouds are rolling in and I've got to go bring in the sheets hanging outside and figure out where to drape them around the house!

On sleep

Sleep and lack thereof has pretty much dominated my life since becoming a mamma. I was never all that interested in sleep before (I've always been an early riser and not much of a napper) so while pregnant, I really didn't give the whole sleep-deprivation thing much thought. People kept saying "Catch up on your sleep now! You'll need it. Ha ha ha" and I didn't pay much attention because I thought, "I'll be fine. I don't need much sleep anyway..." Man, did I underestimate sleep deprivation. It's truly a form of torture. Here are just some random thoughts:

Dylan really was a bad sleeper from day one. He was never one of those babies who fed and then went immediately back to sleep even during the day. He would sometimes doze off but it was impossible for me to sleep when he slept (like all the books tell you to do) because his sleeping patterns were so random and he never slept for long. Plus, I'm not one of those head-hits-the-pillow sleepers like Cristiano is. And I can't "sleep anywhere." All conditions have to be right - extremely dark room, no noise, on my stomach with my head turned to the left and pillows positioned just so. No matter how exhausted I am, it probably takes me a good hour just to fall asleep. So I was a sleep-deprivation disaster waiting to happen.

I also don't think I took into consideration how tiring taking care of a baby really is. And breastfeeding. I think breastfeeding was more difficult and more exhausting than pregnancy. I was already so tired and then with every feeding (and Dylan fed A LOT), I'd literally feel exhausted every time he started sucking on my breast. I guess that's normal because of the hormones released into your bloodstream when you feed. But that was just a double whammy. I'm glad I breastfed for six months but, if I have to be honest, I don't miss it. And despite being the world's most enthusiastic breastfeeder, strangely, Dylan has never, ever reached for my breast since we stopped. When the breastfeeding fanatics - and here if you formula feed, you have to hide in shame - get on me for stopping at six months I shut them up immediately with "I had post-partum depression and had to stop breastfeeding so I could take anti-depressants and be a functioning mother to my son." People are so taken aback by my startling frankness, they don't know how to respond. That'll teach you to mind your own damn business.

I've also noticed at the play group that the babies who still breastfeed at this age seem to be a bit more "mammoni." Like if they fall and get hurt and start crying, they won't calm down until put on the breast. Dylan falls, cries and then keeps on playing after a couple of pats on the back. This doesn't have much to do with sleep but I just have to say that I'm happy with my decision to stop, have no regrets and don't feel like Dylan and I are any less close. If anything, we are closer because I'm much more relaxed and not so agitated and exhausted from feeding every ninety minutes to every two hours around the clock.

I'm thinking about this because last night Dylan slept at his grandparents' so that mom and dad could go see a movie (Vicky Cristina Barcelona - very cute but, unfortunately, our only option was to watch it dubbed into Italian). We went to the late show so we didn't get to bed until around 2 a.m. Nonetheless, I woke up naturally this morning at 7 a.m., got up and feel fine. I was thinking about why that is. If Dylan had kept me up until 2 am. and then woke me up at 7 a.m., I'd be exhausted and cranky. I think it's because I'm just following my natural rhythm. Plus I was able to pad out to the kitchen leisurely, make myself a cup of tea and get on my computer just like the old days. If Dylan were here, by now I would have already changed two diapers, changed his clothes (twice if he spit up on himself), fed him and be chasing him all over the house trying to keep him out of trouble. And would not have had my cup of tea yet. Anyway, enough "me" time. I want to call nonna and get Dylan back home!